


These Kinds Of Nights

by RadicalSkepticism



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, F/F, Friends With Benefits, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Shot, Slice of Life, Song fic, University/College AU!, Unrequited Love, but not explicitly explained
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-14 18:39:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11789103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RadicalSkepticism/pseuds/RadicalSkepticism
Summary: These kind of nights were painful with how perfect they were.





	These Kinds Of Nights

**Author's Note:**

> Been listening to some songs that made me think about some depressing love stories and decided to type out a short bit. I know it's pretty random and hard to follow, but I'm still pretty new to actually writing out my ideas. I hope ya'll enjoy it even with the rough edges!  
> PS: I also suck at titles.
> 
> Inspired by:  
> Que Te Vaya Bonito by Vincente Fernandez  
> Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol  
> You're Beautiful by James Blunt (It's a weird song)  
> Un Idiota by Joan Sebastian  
> She Will Be Loved by Maroon 5

Gumball had been invited to go drinking with some university friends but it felt more like a stay-home-and-feel-like-shit kind of night. He managed to convince his one and only BTF, borderline tolerable friend, to join him on the Depressed Express. Although Marceline loved to get hammered on Friday nights, she liked smoking on his balcony while listening to old songs even more. It was a comfort thing that they needed one and awhile, and Gumball was in desperate need of it at the time. 

So, after a bit of cleaning up and waiting for Marceline's slow ass to arrive, there they were staring at the stars that twinkled in the sky. It was a beautiful, cloudless night with a full moon and a cool breeze. These kind of nights were painful with how perfect they were.

The first song played softly from the portable speaker that laid somewhere on the balcony, the man's agonized voice matching Gumball's mood exactly. He stood in silence and listened to the foreign tongue cry the words he couldn't say himself. Moments passed before Gumball patted his pockets for his pack of cigarettes and a lighter, passing them over to Marceline after lighting his own. 

It wasn't until the fifth or sixth song when Marceline broke their peaceful silence, "You know, it's almost funny, the way someone can be as great as can be one moment and then shittier than shit the next."

Marceline was never the gentle or overly emotional type, she was the kind of person that when you needed a hug or pat on the back, she'd give you a kick to the crotch and tell you to cry her a river. But something in her voice made Gumball glance over his shoulder at her, worried but not as much as he should've been. He understood the hurt in her words more than anyone, and no amount coddling or _'it's gonna be okay'_ s would help.

Instead, Gumball chuckled as he leaned against the railing, "It's damn near hilarious."

"No, seriously, who in their right mind would willingly torture themselves over something they can't have? A masochist." Marceline stretched out on the dirty floor, resting her head on a discarded gym bag. "Holy crap, we're masochists."

The last bit was said with a humorless giggle, something a few seconds shy of breaking.

Gumball knew they were both stupid for what they agreed to, he had nearly tasted the salty tears and sleepless nights that were just around the corner. Yet they hadn't said no, throwing themselves into the pits of hell and calling it home. They both knew that the happy ending they dreamt of was never meant to happen.

"If I knew it would hurt this much," Marceline sounded tired, as though she had walked into a dead end one too many times. "I probably would have ran the other direction."

Gumball threw her a shaky smile, maybe even a tear or two slipping down his face. "I don't think either of us would have ran. Shit, I think we would have jumped off the cliff even faster if we knew. We're masochists, remember?"

There was only a huff of what might have been a laugh in response, followed by a heavy silence. Gumball flicked his cigarette over the railing, watching as it fell and disappeared into a bush, as Marceline took the last drag of hers. Seconds or hours passed, music filling the empty spaces where conversation couldn't.

And then Marceline took a breath, waited a beat, and said, "Bubblegum finally got the guts to tell Fionna how she felt." 

The air grew damp with the statement, a weight slowly sinking down on something fragile. It was going to break and Gumball wouldn't know how to fix it.

He knew it killed Marceline, but still he asked, "And?"

A sniffle, a choked sob, and then a mumbled, "They're the happiest couple I know."

Gumball shut his eyes tight as Marceline finally, _finally_ , started to cry.

It was ugly, a hiccuping and snot filled mess, but Gumball crouched down and held Marceline in his arms. They rocked back and forth, the sound of a train just barely drifting above the music, and she let go. She cried, cursed, and whimpered. She asked why she wasn't enough, what she had to change, when would it go her way. She hated how much she loved her. 

Gumball simply held her, even as her nails dug into his back, and his shirt was ruined by tears and makeup. He tried to swallow down the lump in his throat, to ignore the twist in his gut, to bite back what clawed to spill out. But Gumball felt his shoulders shake, felt the sting in his eyes, heard the broken noises that left his throat. It came crashing out.

"I saw Finn making out with Marshall and knew why he hadn't been stopping by anymore."

Gumball couldn't get the image out of his head. The way they held each other, how their lips met hungrily, how their hands couldn't stop moving, how it seemed they couldn't get enough. It felt as though he wouldn't be able to breath again.

Marceline cried even harder, Gumball held her even tighter, and they both let their heartache force them under. 


End file.
